*Walks out from behind pillar, completely unharmed. Watches Shadow bound off for steak.* Oh, I do enjoy having them enjoy themselves. *Writes something down in notepad before disappearing.*
Doctor: It seems he left a note just incase this came up. *hands over note.* Dear Shadowfang No. But I do appreciate that you think I have good meat. I'm not sure what exactly you mean by that, but thank you. Yours truly, Kuntel, Sovereign Ba'al's personal assassin.
*Chuckles and leans back into hospital bed, then coughs up blood.* Ba'al, don't tell me I have tiberculousus! That would suck! *Doctor walks in, handing file.* Oh, punctured lung huh? Well, sure, do the procedure. *Signs form and is whisked off to be healed.*
Banned because it's Rihannsu. Rihannsu is the language, I believe. Rihan is rihannsu for Romulan... I think I schooled your TRIBBLE... pardon my French.
Uh, yes. This is Kuntel, personal assassin of Ba'al. I have an answer to your question. *Rifling if papers is heard.* The reason no one calls you is because they have to look through the five billion pages of the galactic yellow pages. Perhaps you can have your name moved to a more... auspicious location? By the way, I…
*He smiles again, then crosses his legs and starts floating along.* Loki: See? Good things do come outa this head! It's not empty, see ma?! *With this he taps his head, which strangely makes a flute noise. He looks at his hand and taps again.* Loki: I think I should have that looked at... anyway, want to hear whats goin'…
*He sticks out his tongue and flips around. He then sighs.* Loki: Better to be ignorant then have all the cares and worries of the universe weighed upon your shoulders. *He looks at her and then strokes a fake beard.* Loki, bad asian accent: My ahh Granda Masta tolda me that. Good wisdom, no?
*Loki appears hanging upside down, a smile on his face.* Loki: I say this is about god damn time! You really needed to take a chill pill girl! *He snickers.* Loki: Like my 21st century lingo?
Banned for mistaking my abhorent dislike of memes for siding with an inferior being. GLaDOS will never be equal enough to a Rihan for me to side with it...
*Shakes head.* You, good sir, are banned for logic and for having better grammer than a grammer fascist. Perhaps you wish to explain, oh Mussolini of Grammatical Perfection?
H'Gall chuckles as the Romulan interrogator walks in with a rather amusing device on his head. From the lack of brainwaves H'Gall could sense, he assumes that it is a telepathic inhibitor. H'Gall knows that many of his kin, if not himself, could break through that machine and have the Romulan begging for his life like a...…
H'Gall beams down to the surface of New Romulus. He looks around, seeing incompetence everywhere. No professionals at the pad, no weapon checks, it was dishonourable. He chuckles. I'm starting to let the Klingons get to me... he thinks. He walks off the pad and makes his way through customs, throwing the idiot at the desk…
H'Gall looks around his office. It was a cluttered mess, with papers, books, and PADDs everywhere. Many in the Empire do not know why or how the studious Lethean had gotten his job, but H'Gall has it. He is Chief Interrogator and Organizer of Manhunts, meaning he is the KDF search and destroy chief, that tortures on the…
*Clears throat.* Mr. Ryan, might I remind you that you just barely passed your loyalty trial? We do not need more reason to... inform you of a forced resignation. *Smiles.* Merely a warning... *Another explosion is heard.* Ba'al dammit! Those idiots! *Runs out of the room.*
What? There are explosive ones? I usually killed any that got to close... *Explosion is heard from outside.* Oh Ba'al... I'm going to check on that. *Runs out of room, while loading a dart into blowgun*
*Walks in with a backpack and a blowpipe, twirling in hand.* Yeah... Sanctuary's messed up. Good for training, but messed up. I did get some demons for geneti-*Looks at rattler.* I mean, observation! *Smiles obviously fake smile.*